Lassiter and Lassiter
by sillypantsjackson
Summary: Sometimes you need a Glock and a gun range to clear your head.


**I've been watching (loving) Psych for years, reading Psych Fanfiction since last summer, and finally got up the courage to post my own story. I'm working on a longer story that is almost finished, but in the meantime this little scene came to me, demanding to be written. So this is sort of my practice run. I hope you enjoy it, and if you do, or if you have any friendly advice, please review! Thanks :)**

**...  
...**

Deep breaths. Deep and even, through the nose.

"_Hey, Dad. Can we talk before you go to work?"She watched him enter the kitchen, half-sit on the table and take a still-warm cookie from the plate she had strategically placed there ten minutes ago.  
_"_Sure thing, Sweetheart."_

"_Well, you know I'm graduating next week—"_

"—_And in only two years!" he interjected with a broad smile. "Hey, have you thought about what you're going to do after you graduate?"_  
_  
She clasped her shaking hands together, glanced at her mother._

"_That's what I wanted to talk to you about."_

_  
_Stance. Feet shoulder width apart, spine straight, shoulders relaxed.

"_These last two years at UC Santa Barbara have been great. But, you know, I've always dreamed of going to law school, and I think it's probably time for me to… to move away from home."_  
_  
He regarded her for a moment, then nodded._

"_You're right, Sweetie. You're right. I think Stanford will be a great choice for you. You'll be on your own, but not too far from home."_  
_  
He took a bite of cookie and smiled at her again. "My little baby girl, all grown up!"_

_  
_Assume ready position. Weapon held close to chest. Prepare to engage.

_She glanced back at her mother, who gave her an encouraging nod from behind the counter and her giant white coffee mug._  
_  
She looked down at her white knuckles now gripping the back of the kitchen chair. "Yeah, Stanford would be great, Dad, but….I've always had my heart set on….on Harvard."_  
_  
His brows furrowed. "What…in New York?"_

"_Massachusetts."_  
_  
Silence._

_  
_Acquire the target.

"_You're joking, right?"_  
_  
Slow head shake, back and forth, just once._  
_  
He spoke through his teeth. "You are not even twenty years old. There is no way you're moving clear across the country on your own! Your mother will agree with me!"_  
_  
But her mother shook her head too._

_  
_Line up sights on the target. Focus on your sights.

"_Dad, it's the best law school in the country. They have financial aid options. The campus is very safe."_  
_  
He stood up, cookie forgotten. Pointed at her. Spoke in a low voice._

"_You are not going to school across the country."_

_  
_Inhale. Exhale.

_Tears shone in her eyes as she looked past his accusing finger into his face. "Yes, Daddy….I am."_

  
Maintain constant pressure on the trigger….and

Fire.

"_I sent my application in six months ago…"_

_  
_Fire.

"_I've already been accepted…"_

_  
_Fire.

"_Mom helped me pick out a place to live…"_

_  
_Fire.

"_I can still visit you for the holidays…"_

_  
_Fire.

"_Daddy, it's the very best school in the country, and I got in!"_

Fire.

"_Dad, wait. Don't go. Daddy, please!"_

_  
_Firefirefirefirefirefirefirefirefirefirefire

The sounds of the gunshots echo off the concrete walls of the range, then fade to silence. She steadies her breathing again, then quickly clears the Glock 17 and sets it in front of her. Removes her ear protection, pushes the red button to bring the target up for inspection. Examines the cluster of bullet holes in the center.

"Not bad," a voice says behind her. "Not exactly what I'd expect from the NRA Intercollegiate Pistol Champion, but not bad."

She tries to smile, but their conversation earlier in the day is still raw in her heart. So without looking at him she says, "Well, you know, it's been a rough day. Sorry if I've disappointed you."

She means it as a joke, but she can't stop the two tears that slip down her cheeks.

In a heartbeat he is at her side, wrapping her in his long arms, patting her back as she cries into his suit.

"You listen to me, Lilly Nora," he says, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. "You will never, never disappoint me. I'm sorry for the way I acted back at the house."

She pulls away slightly, looks into his eyes. "I wanted to tell you months ago," she whispers, "but I was afraid."

"Afraid I'd get mad?" he says.

She shakes her head. "No…afraid you'd talk me out of it."

For a moment they stand together. Resting her head against his chest, she can hear his heart beating. Steady. Constant. Finally she pulls away. Straightens his tie. Wipes her tears. Smiles.

"Shall we go home?" he asks.

"Actually…." She leans down and removes a clip from her gun bag. "How about a little old fashioned shoot out? Lassiter vs. Lassiter!"

He grins, reaches behind the cement wall dividing her shooting lane from the next, reveals a matching gun bag. "Well, I just happened to bring this with me…."

Lilly laughs, turns, picks up her Glock. She slides the clip into the gun with a satisfying _snick_.

"May the best Lassiter win!"


End file.
